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Today's horoscope:

Quickie: Learn something from a rival. Appropriate their methods and seize their territory.

YAR!

Overview: Still have a case of unquenchable curiosity? Well, do some digging. Find the person with the answers, and ask your questions -- penetrating, deep ones. Don't stop until you have exactly what you were after.

Am I asking these deep, penetrating questions of the "tall, dark and gorgeous" stranger who was supposed to get my number the other week? Is this the same poor guy I'm supposed to charm into having dinner with me, "devil" that I am? Will my horoscope ever stop trying to pimp me out? Tune in tomorrow...

It's your time to relax -- and not a moment too soon. You still can't control yourself when it comes to asking questions, and you've still got a lot of questions, especially pertaining to one particular person. Be extra cautious about who you ask for information. Jealousy and resentment could easily be introduced into the mix, and who needs that when you're just getting started?

Wait, I thought I was supposed to ask deep, penetrating questions, all night long until the break of dawn. WHY DO YOU SPIN ME ROUND, HOROSCOPE, LIKE A RECORD, BABY, ROUND ROUND?



Quick Lost bits:

jedilora is our Lost icon fairy.

Cousin of Cruise has an interesting theory on who Ethan really is--a theory that goes against pretty much everything we're currently assuming. (Spoilers, clearly.)



I am so tired. Horoscope of Irony is definitely right about that. Y'all are gonna smack me--I sat up last night and tried to finish Attack of the Clones, despite it being my theoretical day off. I got a good ten pages added, but now it looks like it needs trimming--I was told that Titanic is probably too long. Woe. I was going to just sit up until it was done, but some time around 1 am I felt like I'd hit my wall for the night, and my head was starting to hurt again, so I called it a night. And now I'm super-tired all over again. I may have class today, I don't know--I basically have to go to the room and see if it's been canceled or not. Somehow, I just don't feel up to it, so going would sort of be a gamble on the hope that it'll have been canceled, but... I don't know that I can afford to miss it if it's not. Again: Woe.

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Playwright Arthur Miller dead at 89. ( Read more... )

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Still tired--I'm starting to think I'm coming down with something, because I'm taking way too long to get over the level of exhaustion I hit a few days ago. Got a lot of work done on Star Wars last night, but still a lot more to do. I'd like to crank out another one over the weekend, but... well, you know me.

Mom, meanwhile, is now obsessed with 24. She's managed to scam the third season DVD off Sister Girl's best friend, and she's currently downstairs, curled up in the recliner, up to her ears in Kief. Bless.

Oh, and Vladimir was bad! very bad! and bought me another present. I am so spoiled. But I'll tell you what it is when it gets here.

What's this about Beyonce singing the Phantom song at the Oscars? Three of the Oscar-nominated songs, in fact? Fnarrrr. (Somewhere, Minnie Driver is shaking her fist at the sky, and possibly in the general direction of the Knowles clan.) (P.S. I'm PrincessCleo. The second quote in that post about "Walt Disney's Phantom of the Opera" is actually from me. I know, I know--you'd think I couldn't have planned that link any better.)

Speaking of Phantom of the Opera, I feel like I've been giving you far too many linkspam/"Tired. Busy. Writing. Class" entries lately, so I am going to tell you an adorable, highly embarrassing anecdote from my childhood. P.S. It will be uber-rambly. ( Read more... )

Heard about the "Jeff Gannon" scandal? Well, you need to.

shesnotallthere brings us a link to the Best Valentine's T-Shirt Ever.

( A quiz and a meme. Orlando Bloom must be stopped! )

Note on choice of current music: This is the original version of the song, which I think I like better, actually. I think the acoustic version works in its own way, but each version of the song becomes about a different kind of desire. I prefer the kind with the crazy guitars. (Does anyone remember the exact back story to the song? I have this fragment of a story floating around in my head--something about it really being about Linda McCartney? Which is hard for me to imagine, somehow? And really funny to think of Clapton howling "LIIIIIIIIIIINDA!"?) (ETA: Someone does.)